Rematch
by LilikoMizu
Summary: Yang is called out to deal with Neo Politan at Junior's Club after the events of Volume 5. Baked Alaska End game. REVISED
1. Chapter 1

A quiet moon moved lazily across the starry sky above the city of Vale. The city stood tall and regal against the stark contrast of the Grimm infested mountains and forests beyond. Vale's air smelled slightly of garbage and disinfectant but every streetlight and lit window shown undiminished, desperately proving that law, order, and technology would persevere over nature and the Grimm. The city, only partially recovered from its frequent terrorist attacks and faunus' rights protests, tiptoed about its nightly business. Shops were closed down, traffic was non-existent save for the few night delivery trucks, and family's tucked themselves in after another long work day.

Hei Xiong, AKA 'Junior', and his popular mobster night club, Junior's Club, were an exception to the night's average decompressing routine. People of all races and stations chose to abandon their secure day personalities in order to dance, drink, and flirt at Junior's Club. Everyone knew that Junior played both sides of the law when it came to his hangout, and everyone respected the Club as a neutral playing field. The universal needs of every bar-crawler, dancer, and extrovert of Vale came alive and to crescendo within his neon walls.

Yang Xiao Long, a tall, blonde, violet-eyed, well muscled, and expertly trained Huntress from Vale's own Beacon Academy, had completely and utterly forgotten about Junior and his Club. He had once been a source of information before White Fang had first mobilized, and now that he held no fresh insights or interest for Yang, it was like he had ceased to exist in her mind. Until, that is, she received a call on her scroll from an unknown number as she was just exiting the shower.

"Blondie, it's Junior." A brutish voice said from the anonymous avatar on Yang's scroll.

Yang blinked. Surprised that Junior was still around. " _Junior_ Xiong!" She exclaimed, mockingly excited.

"Cut the chit-chat." He growled, not one to suffer insults, "I've got a problem at the club that I think you can deal with."

Yang thought about hanging up immediately, but waited for him to continue.

"I hired a new girl, tried to hire her as a bouncer for rowdy customers a few months back. Only had to pay her booze and information." He sounded rushed and a bit desperate. "She got the weirdos and undesirable customers out, but now she's going for more and more of my target audience _and_ she's been drinking more than I thought her little body could handle. A LOT more. And I can't keep paying for this shit. She's too good for me to fire her outright, so I need you to 'take care' of this situation. You understand?"

"This sounds like a YOU-problem." Yang drawled, wringing her hair out with a towel.

"Hey, Smart-ass, I didn't do anything when you wrecked my club the first time you came around looking for Raven, and I still haven't done anything about you shooting open my club doors from last time. You owe me for club damages. LEGALLY owe me for club damages." He said. His use of the term 'legal' might have been a bluff, but his next sentence drove home the importance of this deal he was laying out.

"And the girl I hired was Roman's girl, the one with pink and brown hair."

Yang was dressed and on her motorcycle, 'Bumblebee', faster than she would have liked to admit. She had promised herself, and many many others, that she would be much less brash in her actions, that she would think things out and consider the possible consequences in the future. And as she raced through the cooling night air, she briefly thought of calling her sister, Ruby, as back-up.

After speeding past a delivery truck, she dismissed the idea.

She'd _thought_ about calling for back-up, and that was progress enough for the time being.

Her mind wandered to the bridge between the cold metal and the hot flesh of her bicep as she flew down the high way. The loss of Yang's right arm had hindered her in many ways; physically, until she was given her new robotic arm, and mentally with what the her dad called a traumatic stress disorder. It took weeks for her to find a reason to get up and work at coming back into the real world again. Getting her family and friends back did wonders for building up her confidence, and to those around her, that had been enough. But the thought of fighting Neo Politan, Roman's soundless henchman, brought back her old unencumbered fighting spirit and stubborn pride. She had lost twice to that petite, smirking figure and her shield-like umbrella. And after Neo's disappearance into a swarm of flying Grimm, it was assumed that she was dead, and Yang's opportunity for a rematch was gone forever.

A rematch. Yang hesitated as she parked and locked her Bumblebee. That's where this encounter was headed. Would there be repercussions? Yang wondered. Could she lose the fight? Would she lose anything _more_? She clenched her metal arm. Hesitation was a side-effect of the traumatic stress, and she loathed her new indecisiveness.

She took several deep breaths and centered herself in the shadows of a streetlight. If there was fight, it would just be a fight; no ulterior motives, no undercover plots. Just an all out brawl with someone of little to no consequence. Someone whose very existence burned at Yang's pride.

She headed into Junior's Club. His club lit up the darkening city, and an exciting beat came from inside the heart of the building, a gift of Hard Bass from a teddy bear-headed disc-jockey. To her surprise, a black-suited club associate bowed and slid open one of the doors for her at the entrance. She heard him talk into his ear piece before closing the door again. If this was a jump on her, Junior was planning it poorly, Yang thought as she sauntered down the neon stairs. The lights were dimmed, but the dance floor lit up and packed with people, humans and faunus alike, who were lost in the rhythm of the bear-headed DJ.

Junior was working behind the bar, but at the sight of her golden lion mane in the crowd he gestured at his second bartender to take his spot. He lured Yang over to the farthest seat at the bar and poured her a drink. When she lifted it to her lips, she found that her cup had just plain water inside.

At her questioning gaze, Junior pursed his lips.

"I need you at your best." He said gruffly.

Unconvinced, Yang set the cup back down and turned to scan the crowd, her ear to Junior for his unofficial briefing.

"She works in the room just off the back wall. It used to be the twin's private entrance to the Club," He said as lowly as he could against the pounding music. "I send unruly customers back to her, and they don't come back. I don't ask what she does or where they go, I'm just trying to run a classy place." He said holding up his hands in defense. Yang snorted at his statement.

"I also send drinks to her, and they don't come back either." He added, humoring Yang in an ingratiating way.

"Where are your bodyguard dolls?" Yang asked, searching the crowd for the frowning black and white dressed twins.

Junior grimaced. "They've been... hosting the target." He replied slowly. At a look from Yang, he held up his hands again. "They're not going to gang up on you, I think. But I can't guarantee that they're entirely on _my_ side in this arrangement."

Yang sighed and rolled her shoulders. "Look, Junior, I know you think I'm no brain and all brawn, but all of this sounds like a trap." To which, Junior pulled out a thick file full of receipts and documents from under the bar.

"THIS is her tab from her first night." He said and pulled out the bottom most receipt.

"Woof." Yang said emphatically, noting the expensive liquors used in each order.

"THESE are the most recent statements and complaints from my target customers," He went on. "And that's nothing to my employee complaints!" He nodded to some black-suited men that were spaced out throughout the room. More than one had bandages and splints over various parts of their bodies. One waved with a cast around his wrist at them.

"I am at the end of my rope here." Junior begged, his face an honest display of stress and exhaustion. Yang felt a bit for the club owner, but was still unconvinced.

Junior read the doubt on her face and scrambled for his scroll and began typing rapidly. "Look, I'll forgive you for the damage to my Club _and_ give you free drinks for a month if you get this done tonight." He held up his scroll for Yang to view, and there it was a message reading 'FREE DRINKS FOR YANG XIAO LONG',with a CC to a long list of colorful names unknown to the huntress.

Yang tapped her fingers on the bar for a minute, before reaching around and grabbing her cup of water. She downed it like a shot, half surprised it was actually water.

"Make it a year, for me _and_ my friends." She stated, before pushing up from her seat and walking through the thick crowd of people. It wouldn't hurt to have free access to the Club to keep an eye on him, she thought, and the drinks would just be a bonus. She smiled to herself, excited to tell her team about the spoils of her night before sidling up to the back door that Junior had mentioned. It read 'VIP', and was guarded by two beaten and bruised thugs. Their eyes, though obscured by wine colored glasses, seemed to well up with gratitude at the sight of Yang. Their guns remained holstered as both of the tall, broad men saluted her in a comical mimic of military respect. It was a stark contrast to the last time she'd been at the Club.

Yang stretched her arms over her head before summoning _Ember Cilica_ around her forearms. She wasn't the same person that had faced Neo back in the train all that time ago, and this upcoming match would prove it.


	2. Chapter 2

The 'VIP' lounge was little more than a modified changing room when Yang entered with _Ember Cilica_ at the ready. It was chillier than the crowded bar and dance floor behind her, and it was illuminated by two soft floor lamps on either side of a deep-brown leather love seat. The arms of the love seat were occupied by the Malachite sisters, both of whom were fawning over the petite girl seated in the middle.

The girl's chocolate and strawberry hair hadn't lost its shine or its curl. Her posture was poised as if she were a Lady at a royal garden party, and her entire demeanor exuded self confidence and control. When Yang had entered the VIP lounge, this wicked angel, the second-in-command to Roman's criminal empire, was hand feeding cherries to the enraptured twins, undisturbed by whomever should be sent into her lair.

As the door behind her closed, Yang heard the soft click of the door locking. She gauged that her only escape would be through the door under the bright 'Exit' sign across the room, within the direct line of sight of the 'bouncer', Neo Politan. She crouched forward, balanced on the balls of her feet, prepared for an attack or provocation. But the trio on the couch seemed unconcerned with her entrance. Yang shivered as she was ignored at the threshold of the club. The scene before her disturbed her in ways she couldn't describe.

She cleared her throat.

Without looking up at her next victim, Neo snapped her fingers at the twins. They turned their eyes to the floor and went about gracefully pulling out a small table and wooden stool from beside the love seat, and placed them in front of their mistress.

Melanie gave a slight bow to Yang and held out her white gloved hand to the stool. Militia stood at attention by the door, unconcerned by Yang or their past fights. It was only when Yang hesitated again, that Neo looked up at the tall blonde beauty. Neo's mouth twitched up, as if to cast her trademark smirk, but it was pulled back down again. A great shadow seemed to drain her previous charisma, leaving her hauntingly beautiful, instead of irrationally cute. She gazed steadily at the Huntress, waiting. The chill seemed to have left the room, as if it too were holding its breath.

Slowly, her eyes on all three of the other girls, Yang took the offered seat. Melanie leaned forward in the slightest bow, and joined her sister at on the other side of the door, her heals clicking loudly in the muffled silence.

Neo stared at Yang, her mismatched eyes taking in every detail of Yang's appearance, including her new metallic arm. She didn't seem angry or arrogant, and her body seemed as languid as a sleeping cat on it's soft leather perch. Her white coat hadn't a speck or blemish on it, and her multiple black necklaces moved up and down seductively. She was the picture of enchantment.

Yang stared back at her, checking for illusions and hidden weapons in every possible crevice of her slight body. They were both so still, that Yang began to wonder if Neo had used her Semblence for a moment to recreate her figure and prepare a sneak attack. But the Neo on the couch blinked and gingerly held up both of her hands, slightly apart, and clapped twice.

The girls at the door smiled and knocked on the locked door. They were released for an unknown reason or task, leaving Yang and Neo alone together in the rapidly cooling room. The corsetted girl seemed to have no burning energy to fight or begin engagements, which left Yang with the awkward option of speaking to the criminal about leaving Junior's Club quietly.

To her surprise, Yang realized that she and Neo had never spoken before, and she wondered fleetingly about how she would begin this process of extraction. She went through half a dozen starts to a conversation in her mind, unsure and hesitating in this uncomfortable predicament. Neo, on her part, didn't seem to have any interest in whatever Yang could say to her. She waited stoically until the club door opened again, admitting the twins with an identical cocktail in each hand. They left immediately after they set the drinks down in front of each high-level fighter, and once again the door was locked after it closed.

Neo reached for her drink, but Yang held up her hand. Her gloved hand reached across the small table and took the drink from in front of Neo, checking for a response on her enemy's somber face. She had gambled on Junior not spiking her cup earlier, but her odds at this new game, with this trickier opponent were significantly lower. She took a sip of the cocktail, maintaining eye contact with the criminal across from her.

And immediately spit the drink back out.

The drink was entirely over sweetened, and underneath the sickly sweet taste was an illegally high proof of liquor. It burned her nostrils and lingered on her stuck out tongue. Neo, now covered in her favorite cocktail, used her sleeve to wipe her face, then used her Semblence to return her outfit to its earlier clean elegance.

"I am so sorry," Yang coughed, wiping her tongue onto the orange scarf around her neck. "Ugh, that is revolting." She said as the burn subsided into a soft numbness in her mouth. Neo held up her hand for silence and pulled out her scroll. It seemed that she would be the one to begin the conversation, as it were.

She pulled up a picture of her old boss, Roman, his familiar red head posted on a 'Most Wanted' flier. She held it up for Yang to see it clearly, and pointed to it with her other hand.

"What about him?" Yang asked, tapping a finger on her fiery lips.

Neo pointed at him again, a look of sincere concentration in her eyes, and Yang jiggled her knee uncomfortably.

"I'm pretty sure..." Yang began, "Ruby said he was eaten, the night you guys fought on the..." She was cut off as Neo swept the cocktail glasses off the table, crashing against the wall in an instant. She slammed her fist against the table and glared at Yang, the flare of fighting spirit bristling throughout her body. Yang was on her feet in a flash, her fists up and ready for an attack.

Another tense moment passed before Neo tightened her grip on the screen with Roman's face on it, and put it back into her pocket. She then opened her hand and gestured from Yang to the 'Exit' door. Yang was being dismissed.

Yang put her fists to her side and assessed the situation; this time from Neo's perspective. Hanging out a criminal's refuge meant you were either a criminal or a criminal-to-be. Or, in some cases, you were looking for existing criminals to contact. From the one sided exchange that had just occurred, Yang guessed that Neo was searching for her old boss, and that she had been waiting for him the entire time she'd been at Junior's.

It was disgustingly pitiful.

"He's dead." She restated, gauging a reaction. Neo's dismissive gaze turned into a glare, as her open handed gesture tightened into a meaningful point towards the door. Sensing the rising tempers, Yang stepped closer to the 'Exit' door, and faced Neo again.

"You can't stay holed up in a bar waiting for a dead man." She went on.

It seemed like a bomb had detonated within the 'VIP' lounge. Neo flipped the table up and at Yang's face, Yang smashed through it to find Neo's hauntingly mismatched eyes inches out of range of her reach, before she could shoot _Ember Cilica_ a weighted parasol came up for her abdomen and smashed her through the exit and out into a filthy back alley.

Yang's arms were up and she shot at an image of Neo coming through the door that shattered easily, Neo came from the side and extending the blade from the top of her parasol and slashed wildly at Yang. Yang kicked back into a roll and was on her feet and running into the night. Lighter on her feet, Neo snuck up ahead of Yang and slashed again aiming for the blonde's head. Flaring up at the insult to her regal golden mane, Yang punched upwards at the parasol. They clashed back and forth with shots from _Ember Cilica_ and metal clangs of the parasol, some times used as a weapon, and other times used as a shield. Neo flipped, dipped, and feigned at Yang, more offensive than their last fight. Yang grew stronger at each ill placed hit with her Semblence, but was breathless at the rapid fire attacks and defenses that were traded between the two titans of close combat. Irritated at the evenness of the match, she moved forward and struck the parasol from Neo's grip during a turn, then blasted it mid-air, sending it flying out into the night.

Yang paused panting, waiting for the next move of her opponent. Neo, breathing equally as heavily, she gave Yang a deathly stare, before turning to run after her weapon in a frenzy. In this moment of chaos, Yang launched a barrage of attack shots at not only the direction Neo was running, but also at all of the possibilities of where she could be running. The guess was good as the image of Neo running away shattered, another illusion, and just to the right and in the shadows of the alley a separate shot hit a solid piece of space in the air, sending that space crashing into a line of garbage cans. The space beside the trash dissolved into the real body of Neo, her disguise melting away along with her consciousness.

Yang stood panting, waiting for any more tricks from Neo, before putting both of her arms up in the air for victory. A small knot in her heart untangled. Her instincts throughout the night had been good, and her hard training had led to the defeat of a foe that had consistently gotten the better of her in the past. All the time she had worked towards being a better Huntress; studying, training, fighting, and repeating this process had now paid off. Her rematch had ended in victory.


End file.
